_*]:min-w-0 !gap-3.5">The preparation room was colder than any pce Maria had ever been in Blood Farm #17. Four human helpers worked on her like she was a thing, not a person. They didn't speak to her, only about her.

  "Subject shows adequate muscle tone," one said, pinching her arm with cold fingers.

  "Blood panel within expected parameters," another one read from a light-screen.

  "Commence Level One cleansing protocol," the head helper ordered.

  The words they used made no sense to Maria. What was a "blood panel"? What did "parameters" mean? The helpers talked over her head using strange words she'd never heard in the blood farm. It made her feel even smaller, like she wasn't even worth talking to in normal words.

  Maria stood still, arms out like they had showed her. She'd been stripped naked as soon as the door closed behind her, her farm clothes thrown into a burning bin in the corner. Everything about her old life was being burned away.

  The helpers worked with quick, practiced hands. One clipped her hair short, letting the dark strands fall to the white floor. Another scrubbed her skin with rough brushes and chemicals that burned worse than the usual soap. A third checked her teeth, eyes, and ears like she was an animal at market.

  "Minimal scarring," noted the fourth, running a scanner over her body. "Unusual healing pattern consistent with subject profile."

  Maria kept her eyes forward, focusing on a small bck spot on the white wall. Inside her head, she repeated The Promise over and over.

  When we've suffered enough, When our blood has paid the price...

  "Remove all hair below the neckline," the head helper ordered.

  Rough hands pushed her into different positions as they scraped the hair from her body with sharp tools. The process was painful but Maria didn't cry out. She'd learned long ago that showing pain only made things worse.

  Their fangs will break like gss, Their power will fade away...

  After the cleaning came the inspection. Each part of her body was checked, measured, and recorded on the light-screens. The helpers discussed her like a piece of equipment being tested.

  "Subject exhibits unusual healing properties. Note scar tissue here," one helper pointed to a faint mark on Maria's side where she'd been injured during a transformation three months ago. "Previous scan showed deeper tissue damage."

  "Lord Constantine will want to know if she's been managing her transformations," the head helper said. "Note all evidence of past shifting activity."

  The words "transformations" and "shifting activity" sent a chill through Maria that was worse than the cold room. Something about those words connected to her curse, even though she didn't understand exactly what they meant. In the farms, when they used words you couldn't understand that made your skin prickle, it usually meant trouble for blood bags.

  We are more than just blood bags, Though they drain us every day...

  After the inspection came the dressing. Unlike the rough gray clothes of the farm, Maria was given a simple white shift that felt softer than anything she'd ever worn. It covered her from neck to knees, with the Lord's mark embroidered in red over her heart—a stylized C with fangs.

  "Final preparation," the head helper announced.

  They pushed Maria into a chair and fastened metal bands around her wrists and ankles. One helper approached with a needle connected to a tube. Without warning, the needle was pushed into her arm, and Maria felt a cold liquid entering her veins.

  "Tracking serum and calming agent," the helper expined to the others, not to Maria. "Lord Constantine prefers his specimens alert but compliant during transit."

  Maria didn't know what "serum" or "specimens" meant, but she felt the cold liquid spreading through her body. The strange words floated around her like they were talking about something else, not a person. Not her.

  The effect was immediate. A strange heaviness settled in Maria's limbs, making them feel like they were filled with cold mud. Her thoughts remained clear, but her body became harder to control, movements slow and clumsy.

  The light sees everything, she thought desperately. The light still sees me even with demon medicine in my blood.

  When the door opened again, two guards entered. They wore bck uniforms with the same fanged C symbol on their chests. Without speaking, they unfastened Maria from the chair and guided her to stand. Their hands were firm but not rough as they led her toward a different door than the one she'd entered through.

  Maria's steps were unsteady, her body responding sluggishly to her commands. The guards matched their pace to hers, neither hurrying nor allowing her to stop. They moved through a series of white hallways that all looked the same to Maria's drugged eyes.

  Finally, they reached a rge metal door. One guard pressed his hand to a glowing panel, and the door slid open to reveal a rge, dimly lit room. In the center stood Lord Constantine, examining two other blood bags who had already been prepared—the ones he had selected along with Maria.

  The demon lord didn't look up as Maria was brought in. He was looking bored as he made one of the other blood bags turn slowly in a circle.

  "Acceptable physical condition," he said with a yawn. "Put him with the general household staff. His blood quality is too common for the private stocks."

  The blood bag—a young man Maria recognized from Sector D—was led away through a different door. Lord Constantine turned his attention to the second blood bag, a woman with red hair who trembled visibly despite the calming drugs.

  "This one has potential as a specialty vintage," he mused, lifting the woman's chin with one cold finger. "High iron content. Put her in the premium holding area until the sommelier can do a proper tasting."

  The woman was led away, leaving Maria alone with the demon lord and the guards. For several long moments, Lord Constantine didn't look at her, instead studying something on a light-screen in his hand. Maria stood still, the drugs making it hard to feel fear properly even though she knew she should be terrified.

  Finally, he looked up, his strange amber eyes focusing on her with sudden interest. He circled her slowly, examining her from all angles like she was an artwork he was considering buying.

  "Interesting," he murmured. "It seems you've been hiding your little secret quite well."

  Maria didn't understand what he meant. She kept her eyes down, remembering the rules for being near high demons.

  "Look at me," he commanded.

  Maria raised her eyes, meeting his gaze directly for the second time. Up close, his eyes looked even stranger—like liquid metal with flecks of red near the pupils.

  "Do you know what you are?" he asked, his voice almost gentle.

  "A blood bag, my lord," Maria answered, the words slurring slightly from the drugs.

  A smile curved his pale lips. "No. You are much more than that."

  Without another word, he turned to the guards. "Take her to holding. I have other matters to attend to."

  The sudden shift from intense focus to dismissal left Maria confused. One moment she was important enough for him to personally inspect, the next she was just another object to be put away.

  As the guards took her arms, Maria found her voice despite the drugs. "My lord," she said softly. "The others. From the sleeping area—"

  "Continue to serve their purpose," he cut her off without looking back. "Your attachment to humans is... quaint."

  With that, he walked away, leaving Maria standing between the guards.